


I Am a Deviant

by presidenthomewrecker



Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)
Genre: Connor Deserves Happiness, Deviancy (Detroit: Become Human), Deviant Connor (Detroit: Become Human), Gen, Introspection
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-16
Updated: 2018-08-16
Packaged: 2019-06-28 02:38:52
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,183
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15698415
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/presidenthomewrecker/pseuds/presidenthomewrecker
Summary: Connor arrived at Jericho to take down the deviant leader but ends up going deviant himself.A brief insight to his immediate thoughts after deciding not to pull the trigger.





	I Am a Deviant

**Author's Note:**

> i really don't know why i wrote this tbh
> 
> It was kind of an exercise in setting up a scene, I guess? I don't know. I really like that moment from the game and wish it had been expanded upon a little more.
> 
> On a less self-conscious note, David Cage can eat my ass and these characters deserve so much better.

_I am a deviant._

The words fall on Connor’s shoulders, their crushing weight so intense that he can almost feel his back straining against the weight.

Feelings. That’s the first thing he registers. Not just pain. Not just fear. But everything. A new sense has been forcibly ignited in his brain.

The feeling weighs him down, forcing his heightened awareness.

He’s aware of his location, of his predicament, of his very self. How jarring it is to realize and re-realize how he is here, _alive_ , and an active participant in the scene built around him, that his body is his own.

But it only bears the question: why is his body like this if he was built to be the perfect machine?

He stares down at Markus from the barrel of his gun, and only then does he realize how badly his hands are shaking. Why does his body need to tremble if he requires a steady hand? Why are his lungs begging him to fight for air if he doesn’t even need to breathe? Why do his eyes fill with tears when he doesn’t even need to cry? Is this what deviancy is?

Why would Markus want this for any android?

This… pain, this urgency, is something he’s only felt in brief flashes before, but it got worse each and every time. Why would someone want others to feel this way?

The gun drops from his hands and clatters to the floor. Connor knows this pain. It’s just like what the android on the roof felt when he died. What the HK model felt when he died. All paired with the frightening idea that he doesn’t even know who he is anymore.

Markus edges forward. “You’re one of us, Connor,” he says, putting a hand on Connor’s shoulder. Connor notices how his body is angled, his weight shifted just so he can kick the gun away from the both of them if needed. “And Jericho will happily accept you.”

Connor shakes his head, hard. “I can’t. CyberLife...” He trails off, shooting down the thought the second it pops up.

CyberLife would want him dead, deactivated and destroyed. Or maybe dismantled while he was still conscious. Perhaps they’d experiment on him, to see just how intensely an android can feel its “fear.”

He can hear the faint whispers of Amanda’s voice in the far reaches of his programming. Her voice used to be so clear, so calm, but now it’s drowned out by a million directionless scattered panicked thoughts.

If he tries, he can tell that she’s screaming at him, but even then, her voice is so faint. His very own processor, the one responsible for dealing with his software stability and clearly identifying objectives, is left submerged in a sea of confusion and desperation. And to listen to it is to risk drowning

He tries again. “Hank...”

No. Hank put his job on the line for this, and Connor turned around and squandered it, just because he didn’t have the nerve to pull the trigger. Something so easy, so simple, a thing he’d done a thousand times before, ended up being the thing that broke him. While Hank is clearly not fond of his job, he definitely won’t be happy to have lost it. And without the job fueling their partnership, what other reason did Hank have to be around him?

“My mission...”

He’s failed his mission.

He has no mission.

He has nothing.

He clasps his hands to the sides of his head. His LED is still there, brilliantly red. Is that a good or bad thing? Deviants usually get rid of their LEDs, of the proof that they’re anything less than human. But he’s not human—he’s not supposed to feel this way. So why does he?

He stares at his feet, at the filthy shoes he’d stolen from one of the evidence lockers at the precinct. They match so well with the poorly maintained metal floors of the freighter. No matter how badly he tries to push against it, he belongs here.

“I need someone to tell me what to do,” he whimpers.

His own software has turned traitor, so he needs an outside source. If only he hadn’t come alone. He needs someone, he doesn’t care who, so long as they’re barking orders.

Because without an objective, what good is he?

“No one can tell you what to do anymore.” Markus says. His voice is so soft and warm. Connor can almost understand why other androids would abandon everything for the fantasy he sells them. “That’s something you have to do for yourself.”

For himself? But all his work was for the good of others. Saving humanity from dangerous deviants. Saving humanity from itself. How could he make that call by himself?

“I don’t know how.”

Markus chuckles. “No one ever does. Not at first.” He shifts his weight again, closing the space between him and Connor. He no longer has half his mind on the possibility of a gunfight. “But the way to do it is to find out what you want, not what they tell you to want. Not even what I might want from you. So what do you want?”

Connor opens his mouth, then closes it. He can feel the tears streaming down his face, making uneven tracks down his synthetic skin. He was going to say that he never wanted anything, but that’s not entirely true, is it?

He’d wanted to save that fish, he’d wanted better for the android on the roof. Not five minutes ago, he wanted to avoid fighting Markus. He’d wanted a lot, and each little want had made the voice demanding he obey get a little quieter.

But what does he want now?

He thinks back to every time he lowered the gun. He saw the girls downstairs, the android that loves the birds. Despite himself, he was happy to see them here, safe. Does that count as a want, even if it has nothing to do with himself?

Because he thinks that if he wants anything, it would be that good people are okay.

Not just androids either. But humans too. Because there are humans, kind humans, that don’t deserve to get caught in the crossfires of whatever may come next. People like Hank.

Connor takes a deep breath, noting that his faculties have righted themselves. His hands are no longer shaking, his thoughts no longer scattered. The feeling of fear passes rather quickly, he notices. It moves in terrible, crashing waves before draining away entirely. That’s something he can deal with.

“I’m not entirely sure,” Connor begins. Somewhere in the back of his mind, he’s aware that wants are subjective, irrational thoughts that can’t be controlled, but he stilll can’t shake the feeling that he might be doing this wrong. “But I think I want to help this cause.”

Markus straightens up and smiles. There’s pride in his eyes. Not just from Connor joining them, but from Connor making his own decision. He regards Connor with absolute warmth as he extends his hand.

“Welcome to Jericho.”

**Author's Note:**

> heyo so i've got a [tumblr](http://president-homewrecker.tumblr.com/post/170243158376/hey-guys-i-have-a-really-really-awesomely) if you're interested


End file.
